


The Ones Where They Get Together (Finally)

by 60r3d0m



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Transformation, Dean and Cas Get Stuck In A Closet, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Jealous Dean Winchester, Kid Fic, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage, Misunderstandings, Online Dating, Sharing a Bed, Stabbing your sweetheart nbd, Texting, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-14 21:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60r3d0m/pseuds/60r3d0m
Summary: The witch who’d done this to them had really known what she was talking about—she’d promised that Sam would live out his worst nightmare, and then in a flash of violet smoke, Sam’s nightmare had indeed come to life.Dean. Cas.Both four years old.Sam wanted to die.





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of stories that were originally written on Tumblr. Because of Tumblr's new and wildly disastrous filters, I'm choosing to archive them here in case they get flagged/deleted. 
> 
> Each story is a drabble, often fluffy or humorous, of varying length, both canonverse and AU. As I add them here, I'll be posting their summaries on this page, serving as a table of contents, eventually with the intention to separate them by tropes such as fake dating/kidfic/etc. Each time a new story is uploaded, I'll change the main story summary to reflect that. The title will also offer clues about content.
> 
> You're welcome to subscribe if you'd like! For now, I'll be posting one or two new stories everyday until all of the drabbles are uploaded which should take about a week and a half. After that, I'm thinking of opening it up for prompts <3

**TABLE OF CONTENTS**

1. Table of Contents 

2\. Marriage Proposal at the Age of Five

Cas is five when a kid on the playground tells him that no one will ever marry him because he's _weird_. But then a kid with more freckles than Cas can even count shows up and asks for his hand in marriage.

“Don’t worry, Cas,” Dean says. “I’ll marry you. Mommy says I gotta wait til I’m thirty to get a girlfriend but I’ll marry you after that. Pinky promise!”

So Cas, beaming, gives him his hand and agrees.

And it goes well. Dean and he grow older, best friends joined at the hip, and they joke about that old promise made ages ago, knowing full well that it's definitely _not_ happening.

But then Dean turns _thirty_.

And suddenly, they can't look each other in the eyes anymore.

 

3. Cas Does Not Like the Dentist

Cas is gone for all of five minutes before the dentist comes out and tells Dean, “There’s a problem.”

And Dean’s jumping out of his chair, picturing a million nightmares, that maybe the dentist is going to have to pull all of Cas’ teeth out or  _god_ , maybe Cas has  _tooth cancer_  (though he’s not sure if that last one exists).

But it doesn’t end up being any of those.

Turns out that Castiel, hunter-in-training, master of smitey looks, angel of the Lord, and mighty fearsome warrior of God, is a  _wimp_ —he’s afraid of the  _dentist_.

 

4\. The Curse Where Cas Turns into a Cat

Dean would be lying if he said that weird things didn’t happen just a little more often on the thirty-first of October.

So it was no surprise, really, that when the clock struck midnight and Halloween reared its ugly head again, that upon discovering a fluffy black kitten with blue eyes licking its paws and nestling on his bed, Dean immediately called Sam.

Clearly the kitten was the spawn of Satan.

So, "Let's kill it," Dean said.

 

5. Dating App Disaster

The one where both Dean and Cas sign up for a dating website, not knowing that they’re actually just flirting with each other, and then proceed to get jealous.

 

6\. Mistaken for a Murderer

“You’re not going to murder me,” Cas growls, defiant, and pushes the edge of the sword right up against the home intruder's neck just as the man babbles, “Please don’t kill me!"

Cas blinks.

“I’m Dean,” the firefighter says, and then Cas realizes what he’s done.

Suddenly, he's acutely aware of the fact that he’s straddling the freckled man without any clothes on.

 

7. Stuck in a Closet (With You)

Okay. Dean  _tries_. He really does. He tells himself to  _rein it in_. He tells himself,  _Conceal, don’t feel_ , even as he rushes forward to grab Cas’ duffel bag and carry it into the motel for him (they’ll all think that he’s just being a good friend, right?). He tells himself,  _Be careful, damn it_ , to stop reaching out to touch Cas on the shoulder so much, to ask him if he’s doing okay even if Cas is  _fine_ and it’s only been about twenty seconds since he last confirmed that particular fact. But…he’s  _hopeless_. Dean knows that about himself. He’s hopeless because he’s got a lot of feelings swirling inside his chest and he’s not sure how he’s going to survive the next twenty-four hours without blabbing  _all of them_.

 

8\. Death Threats or Love Letters?

_“You know,” he says, when he’s back at his neighbour’s apartment to hand back death threat no. 5., “maybe, uh, loosen up the pants there a bit. It doesn’t—it doesn’t look so comfortable.”_

_Castiel gives him another one of his smoldery looks and tugs at his belt._

_“Are you offering?” he says._

The one where Dean keeps getting Cas’ mail and thinks that his neighbour’s trying to murder him, but really, Cas is on a quest to find true love.

 

9\. Deaged Disasters

The witch who’d done this to them had really known what she was talking about—she’d promised that Sam would live out his worst nightmare, and then in a flash of violet smoke, Sam’s nightmare had indeed come to life.

Dean. Cas.

Both four years old.

Sam wanted to die.

 

10\. TBA

 

11\. TBA

 

12\. TBA


	2. Marriage Proposal at the Age of Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is five when a kid on the playground tells him that no one will ever marry him because he's _weird_. But then a kid with more freckles than Cas can even count shows up and asks for his hand in marriage.
> 
> “Don’t worry, Cas,” Dean says. “I’ll marry you. Mommy says I gotta wait til I’m thirty to get a girlfriend but I’ll marry you after that. Pinky promise!”
> 
> So Cas, beaming, gives him his hand and agrees.
> 
> And it goes well. Dean and he grow older, best friends joined at the hip, and they joke about that old promise made ages ago, knowing full well that it's definitely _not_ happening.
> 
> But then Dean turns _thirty_.
> 
> And suddenly, they can't look each other in the eyes anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my very first AU fic. ever :P I love canonverse so that's pretty much exclusively what I write. this first story's veryyy awkward as I try to figure out what I'm doing, but I promise the rest of the stories get better <3

It had started out as nothing but an unfriendly gibe on the school playground.

Legs knobbly, cheeks still chubby with baby fat and hearts made of gold, both of them had only been five years old when Lucifer had told Cas (and the entire kindergarten class, curse him) that no one would ever marry him because he was “weird” and “didn’t knowed [sic] how to talk to other kids, 'specially grown-ups.”

“Don’t worry, Cas,” Dean had said. “I’ll marry you. Mommy says I gotta wait til I’m thirty to get a girlfriend but I’ll marry you after that. Pinky promise!”

And really, it should have been left at that.

Except as the years had gone by, what had once been a solemn vow on the playground had now turned into a string of teasing jokes that had just kept going. Jokes like, “Dean, the pizza man thinks I’m a loser because I’m twenty-six and have no job,” and Dean would always reply with a swift, “Bet if you had a husband, no one would question it.” Or, “Cas, do you think the reason I can’t keep a serious relationship is because I’ve got ‘commitment issues’?” and Cas would remind him that he better fix those issues because, “You’re going to marry me when you turn thirty, Dean, remember?”

So of course when the night of Dean’s thirtieth birthday had finally arrived, things had gotten real a little too quickly.

Cas and Dean had been touchy-feely all night. It had gotten so bad that even Benny had pulled Dean aside with a gruff little, “You alright, brother?” even though Dean had only had one beer. And then finally the night had ended, at least for the few friends that they had invited over because of course they were roommates (the city rent had gotten a little too damn high).

With just the two of them, the apartment had suddenly felt really big.

“Uh, so, thirty.”

“Yes, Dean. You’re thirty now.”

“Guess that means we gotta…you know.”

“Yeah,” Cas had said hurriedly. “We should sleep. They say hangovers at this age are a nightmare.”

“Yeah. Right. Totally what I was talking about. Let’s do that.”

After that, things had gotten weird. 

It wasn’t just the fact that they kept waking up and going to bed in the same room (Cas’, if anyone cared to know). Or that every time someone tried to make plans with Dean, he would say, “Yeah, I’ll have to check in with Cas. See if that’s okay” (“What, are you married to him, Dean?”). Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that Dean had started beckoning Cas over with absent-minded “honey”s and “sweetheart”s whenever he wanted Cas to take a look at their faulty electricity bill. 

It was the fact that they had stopped dating other people altogether.

Dean hadn’t had a new girlfriend in six months. Cas hadn’t brought someone home in ages.

And in the meanwhile, they hadn’t talked about…an awkward oath that may or may not have happened on a school playground about twenty-five years ago.     

Naturally, it hadn’t lasted. 

Cut to a fancy-ish dinner party thrown at their home, newlyweds Sam and Eileen, and Eileen happily drunk enough to tell Cas that she had “a great single friend [who was] looking to get settled down.”

And of course, the whole party had come to a screeching halt.

The silence had been so loud that when Dean had awkwardly shifted on the couch (he’d been sitting squished next to Cas with an arm thrown around Cas’ shoulder), the creaking of the springs had sounded like a rusty knife being scraped against the tombstone of Dean’s future grandchild’s grave).

To say the least, it hadn’t been good. 

Cas and Dean had disentangled themselves from the couch. The rest of the party, people had kept glancing over at them, whispering not-so-covertly, things like, “I could’ve sworn they tied the knot,” and, “Yeah. Heard they were adopting a little girl from Cambodia, just like Angelina Jolie.” 

The hours and the gossip had dragged on and on, but eventually, at last, the party had been over. 

They had went to sleep in separate beds.

Or well, they had _tried_ to. But see, the thing about sharing a bed for six months was…well, they had gotten _used_ to it.

Cas had tossed and turned restlessly. Dean had fallen asleep for about five minutes nuzzling Cas’ neck (or what he had thought was Cas, but had actually been his extra pillow, after which he’d woken up and hadn’t been able to sleep anymore). Finally, when the damn clock had struck three, Dean had dragged himself out of bed and had stumbled into Cas’ room.

For a second, it had been so quiet that Dean had thought that Cas had fallen asleep.

But then he had heard Cas’ breath hitch. 

Later on, when they would tell the story, they wouldn’t be able to recall who had moved first. Whether it had been Dean who had climbed onto the bed and had straddled Cas’ hips. Or if it had been Cas who had pulled Dean into a kiss (their first kiss) as if his life had depended on it. All they would know, years later, was that they’d had an impromptu wedding night, full of enthusiastic make-out sessions and shy love confessions, and in the morning, had had a wedding that would lead to a marriage filled with endless smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/163964427057/winjennster-ltleflrt-are-there-any-destiel) <3


	3. Cas Does Not Like the Dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is gone for all of five minutes before the dentist comes out and tells Dean, “There’s a problem.”
> 
> And Dean’s jumping out of his chair, picturing a million nightmares, that maybe the dentist is going to have to pull all of Cas’ teeth out or _god_ , maybe Cas has _tooth cancer_ (though he’s not sure if that last one exists).
> 
> But it doesn’t end up being any of those.
> 
> Turns out that Castiel, hunter-in-training, master of smitey looks, angel of the Lord, and mighty fearsome warrior of God, is a _wimp_ —he’s afraid of the _dentist_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, I'm very fond of this drabble :P I kind of want to expand this one in the future someday

The biggest mystery of it all is why Cas even has to go to the dentist in the first place. Cas is perplexed, too. When he flosses experimentally because he sees Dean doing it, neither of them are expecting the blood that erupts from Cas’ mouth—for god’s sake, he’s an  _angel_. So it’s no wonder that Cas knits his eyebrows together and gets all squinty after that.  _Help me, Dean_ , that look pleads, and because Dean’s not heartless, he gives an exasperated sigh and steps up, crowds Cas up against the bathroom counter before he presses a hand to his jaw. When Cas’ eyes flutter closed at the touch, Dean doesn’t say anything. Dean tries not to let it get to him. 

But he swallows.

“Figures,” Dean says, clearing his throat while he peers into Cas’ mouth, “that the most unstoppable force in the universe is tartar.”

They go to the dentist.

 

 

 

 

It’s a bit of a hassle filling out the paperwork. They have about a hundred fake addresses and Dean doesn’t really remember which one.

So, “Same as me,” Dean says. “We live together.”

“Another brother?” the man asks and Dean tells him no—that Cas’ last name is Novak—and it’s only ten minutes later that he realizes what it looks like.

But he doesn’t correct the receptionist.

 

 

 

 

It takes a while in the waiting room. It takes so damn long that Dean gets a little fidgety, and it’s a welcome distraction when Claire sends a text message to Cas.

_look ‘dad_ ,’ it says. _i kno u like memes_.

Heads close together, they watch the little video snippet craning their necks over Cas’ phone screen.

When the cat in the clip purrs, Dean smiles softly.

Cas gives him a fond smile in return.

 

 

 

 

Cas is gone for all of five minutes before the dentist comes out and tells Dean, “There’s a problem.”

And Dean’s jumping out of his chair, picturing a million nightmares, that maybe the dentist is going to have to pull all of Cas’ teeth out or  _god_ , maybe Cas has  _tooth cancer_  (though he’s not sure if that last one exists).

But it doesn’t end up being any of those.

Turns out that Castiel, hunter-in-training, master of smitey looks, angel of the Lord, and mighty fearsome warrior of God, is a  _wimp_ —he’s afraid of the  _dentist_.

When Dean goes to see him, Cas is frozen solid and spooked.

“Dean,” Cas says urgently. “The dentist is a very bad lady.”

 

 

 

 

The dentist stands by politely while Dean talks to Cas, when he tries to explain to him that she isn’t trying to bore holes through all of his teeth—she’s just trying to scrape away the gunk.

Cas argues the facts of his case vehemently.

When Dean draws his chair close to Cas and presses a comforting hand to his knee, the dentist makes herself busy.

“Look,” Dean says, when they’re alone. “I’ll be right here the whole time, alright?”

So Cas says okay.

 

 

 

 

It’s the polishing tool that does it. It buzzes so loudly that Cas scrambles for him, is grabbing Dean’s hand before Dean even has a chance to open his mouth.

Cas’ hand is warm in his own and Dean has to take a moment to pull himself together before he can get any words out.

But he squeezes Cas’ hand automatically when Cas first gives it to him.

 

 

 

 

“Wasn’t so bad now, was it?” the dentist trills after she’s done and Cas glares at her—he hadn’t found the taste of the fluoride mouthwash appealing.

Dean’s in the middle of helping Cas out of the chair when she says, “And now your boyfriend will be able to appreciate that fresh breath.”

Cas’ hand in his own suddenly feels like burning coals.

But he doesn’t let go.

 

 

 

 

It’s not that he means to do it, but it just happens.

When they’re waiting in front of the receptionist, it’s an absentminded way of keeping Cas close. He presses a hand to Cas’ lower back, wraps his arm around Cas’ waist while he deals with the payment of the dental cleaning. When they’re done, he yanks Cas out the door by his hand.

It’s a tricky situation after that. It’s tricky because the dentist is gone and they don’t have an excuse. They take turns letting go and catching each other’s hands again while they’re on the sidewalk, careful never to look at each other, blindly feeling for each other’s fingers when the minutes since their last contact seems too long. The two blocks that it takes to get to the Impala, they play the damn tug-o’-war.

But then they’re standing in front of Baby’s sleek black metallic form.

And now, they don’t know what to do.

 

 

 

 

The drive to the bunker is quiet. Dean’s too nervous to talk. If he lets this moment be forgotten in history, he knows that there might not be another one.

 

 

 

 

It’s when they’re parked in the bunker’s garage that he broaches it. He starts, “You, uh, know, Cas—” and Cas hurriedly says, “Yes!”

Dean says, “What?”

“I know,” Cas says gently. “Dean…I  _know_.”

So, “What do you know?”

 

 

 

 

They’re efficient. They reach about fifty relationship milestones in the span of twenty minutes in the bunker’s garage.

The next time that Dean goes to the dentist, he introduces her to his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/166648216927/i-need-a-fic-where-the-dentist-thinks-dean-is-cas) <3


	4. The Curse Where Cas Turns into a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean would be lying if he said that weird things didn’t happen just a little more often on the thirty-first of October.
> 
> So it was no surprise, really, that when the clock struck midnight and Halloween reared its ugly head again, that upon discovering a fluffy black kitten with blue eyes licking its paws and nestling on his bed, Dean immediately called Sam.
> 
> Clearly the kitten was the spawn of Satan.
> 
> So, "Let's kill it," Dean said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops couldn't update the last two days because I had to write a paper, but I'll try my best to update tmr and the day after with new stories! <3

Halloween was kind of a curse, especially in the Men of Letters bunker.

Dean would be lying if he said that weird things didn’t happen just a little more often on the thirty-first of October. Their first Halloween, Sam had spent the entire day uncontrollably weeping. Sure, Dean had found it kind of funny after the initial concern had worn off, but then an hour later, when Dean’s own eyes had gone puffy and red, he’d naturally been a little more eager to race for the books. Whatever the curse had been, it’d broken after midnight, and then with their mutual eagerness for repressing the embarrassing, they’d never talked about it again.

The second Halloween at the bunker had proved to be just as trying. Fifteen vengeful spirits had emerged from their resting places, all hellbent on courting Cas. Dead women had stalked Cas everywhere, tearing the bunker apart with their squabbling as they’d fought each other for his affections. That Halloween, Dean had been especially grumpy, and after Cas had wondered aloud if the spirits could simply be put to rest if he went along with their flirtations, not only had Dean found, salted, and burned all of the women’s remains, he’d also accomplished the said task within a whopping total of thirty-one minutes. In fact, Dean’s research skills had been so admirable that day that Sam had been green with envy for the six hundred and sixty-six hours that had followed this remarkable feat.

So it was no surprise, really, that when the clock struck midnight and Halloween reared its ugly head again, that upon discovering a fluffy black kitten with blue eyes licking its paws and nestling on his bed, Dean immediately called Sam.

And after that, it was all panic.

Cue Sam and Dean warily circling the bed, Sam with a net clasped between his fingers, Dean with a bottle of holy water all ready to spritz away every ounce of Satan that the kitten contained. Hell, they were traumatized men, hardened from years of fighting Halloween battles, and they weren’t letting the twisted holiday mess with them this year. With a jerk of his head, Dean motioned for his brother, and after a bit of a struggle (notably chasing the little devil as it evaded Sam effortlessly), the kitten was finally ensnared.

Two minutes later, the kitten was staring up at them with pitiable blue eyes, dripping wet thanks to how expertly Dean had handled his spray bottle throughout the chaotic affair.

“Let’s kill it,” Dean said, and all it took for them to abandon their murder plans was for the kitten to poke its nose into the back of Dean’s hand and let out a tiny little  _Mew_.

 

 

 

 

Okay, the thing about the kitten was…well, it was kind of actually really fucking cute.

_Mew_.

Or really sneaky, anyway.

Dean found himself carrying the dratted thing around for the rest of the day, up high on his shoulders where every once in a while, the kitten would purr contently and lick at his face. They were trapped in the library, having agreed after the first little  _Mew_  that surely the cold-blooded killing of the feline could be put off, in the interests of, as Sam had put it, “Not jumping to conclusions, Dean—it might just be a stray!” even though Dean was 10000% sure that the kitten was most definitely the spawn of Satan, intent on bearing them ill will on Hallow’s Eve.

_Mew_.

Okay, 9999% sure.  

And so they carried on with their night, Sam furiously running his fingers through the index pages of an old volume of  _Cats: Evil Disguised as Fluffy Furballs_  while Dean sat at the table eating a burger, the kitten on his shoulder suddenly preoccupied with kneading the old spot where Cas’ handprint had once been.

“Mew,” the kitten kept whining urgently, batting its paw at Dean’s mouth whenever Dean tried to take another bite of some delicious patty and Dean fought the baby cat bravely, finally putting his meal down when the onslaught of the kitten’s terror became too much.

A few more minutes of struggling ensued while Dean tried to detach the kitten while the thing continued to cling furiously onto his t-shirt and then Dean finally succeeded, placing the kitten neatly on the floor while he resumed the noisy—and shameless, Sam would happily say—task of gulping-slash-inhaling his behemoth of a burger.

_Mewmewmew_ , the kitten cried, pawing at his leg, attempting to climb, and it was at that moment that a sudden pressing thought struck Dean.

Dean choked.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam said, just as Dean looked at his brother with an expression of similar horror.

 

 

 

 

Cas was the fucking kitten.

When Cas curled up sadly in Dean’s lap upon Dean questioning him, it was all but confirmed. After that what followed was Dean patting Cas’ head a lot, whispering to him often and excessively with soft smiles that, “It was gonna be alright, buddy,” and, “We’ll get you back soon, Cas, promise,” as Cas would respond with numerous deflated  _Mew_ s.

And as the hours dragged on, and the night made them grow weary and Cas fell asleep mid-licks of Dean’s cheek, both brothers agreed that it would do them no good staying awake if it meant that they couldn’t function.

“Besides, it’s only been a couple hours of Halloween and we’ve got the whole day tomorrow,” Sam said, “and at midnight, Cas’ll probably be back to normal, anyway.”

So they went to bed.

 

 

 

 

Dean didn’t think much of it, of course, when he carried Cas in his arms and put him to bed in the space next to him as he slept. When morning came and with it, wakefulness, the last thing Dean would’ve expected was finding Cas transformed back into himself, stark naked, the little blanket that Dean had laid over him as useless as the idea of Dean successfully getting Sam to cut his hair.

“Uh, hey,” Dean said, voice a little husky, and Cas smiled, maybe even smirked a little, and damn it, if Dean didn’t swallow desperately at the sight.

After that, Dean and Cas didn’t emerge from the bedroom for…a long time.

At least not until Sam knocked on their door thirteen hours later, hair frizzy from effort, clothes rumpled as he tiredly announced, “I found a cure, Dean. We can fix Cas.”

And Dean would’ve responded, truly he would have, if at that moment, his mouth hadn’t been busily engaged with carrying out another task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/166999901232/deancas-fluff-halloween-1100-words) <3


	5. Dating App Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where both Dean and Cas sign up for a dating website, not knowing that they’re actually just flirting with each other, and then proceed to get jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit nervous updating everyday because I don't want to be spamming everybody's inboxes with emails, so every two days maybe? At least the Tumblr chaos has settled down a bit :P I backed up everything so I know the old fics are safe and sound, but I'll still post them here because it's a very neat collection!

The curiosity sets in when Dean’s in the middle of fixing up breakfast. It’s not for himself—peanut butter and jelly is special to someone else in this bunker—so Dean glowers a little when he sees what that special someone is doing.

“Unappreciative,” Dean grumbles under his breath, when he spots Cas furiously tapping away on his phone without a care for Dean’s efforts. After Dean tells him that his sandwich is ready, Cas absentmindedly pats the table, motioning for Dean to deliver.

He even keeps texting when Dean brings him the goddamned plate.

 

 

 

 

Okay. So it starts to grate on Dean’s nerves a little…or a lot. Dean tries to take a peek. Dean inches up behind Cas on several occasions more than once, trying to see what’s got Cas so worked up, so interested that he barely even makes eye contact with Dean anymore (and, uh, that’s really saying something). But Cas’ phone always seems to thwart him. Whenever he manages to catch a glimpse, Cas’ fingers have calmed and he’s on his gardening game app.

“My petunias are growing very nicely,” Cas tells him with a toothy grin that soon enough falters, “but the pumpkins have died again.”

 

 

 

 

It’s when they’re watching a movie together that Dean finally finds out. There’s no shame or hiding it even as Cas’ shoulder is pressed firmly up against his. On Dean’s laptop, cowboys are running wild, and on Cas’ phone is…a dating app.

Cas isn’t watching the movie.

Cas is busy responding to suggestive messages sent by a man with hazel eyes and more freckles than Dean has.

 

 

 

 

Okay. So Dean’s not sure what this feeling is. It’s nervousness, maybe, probably, because his hands on his phone are sweaty. He’s done the whole dating app thing before, but it’s a different feeling when he’s browsing for guys—and if Cas is getting into the game now, isn’t it time that Dean do, too?

Today, Cas is onto another man.

_He’s still looking_ , Dean thinks before he wonders why he cares so much.

 

 

 

 

It gets addictive really fast.

For a full week, Dean’s talking to three or four guys a day, until all of their names start to blur together.

Or, well,  _almost_  all of them.

He doesn’t know what it is, but _BeeMySunshine_ gets under his skin more than most. For hours in a row, Dean’s exchanging messages with him furiously, while Cas sits at the table opposite him, texting his own guy. It almost becomes an activity that they do together on the regular, flirting over the phone with their matches, and always strangely finishing up at the same time (Cas must be waiting up for him, which is, well, a pretty nice thing to do).

After Dean sends a goodbye to _BeeMySunshine_ , he puts his phone away just as Cas sets his own down. 

Dean smiles.

“Movie?” 

 

 

 

 

The thing is, Dean starts to fall for _BeeMySunshine_. He doesn’t know what the charm is. Maybe it’s the guy’s geeky humour. But whatever it is, it’s downright endearing.

> **beemysunshine** : Today, I’m going to commit theft. A guinea pig from the pet store. They’re treated very badly :( and my best friend will not appreciate what I have done :( but it must be done for the sake of humanity :)
> 
> **cake-and-pie-and-hi-i’m-bi** : nonsense
> 
> **cake-and-pie-and-hi-i’m-bi** : ur friends a dumbass if hes denying anything to someone as adorable as you, guinea pigs or not
> 
> **beemysunshine** : Yes. I think this very often :)
> 
> **beemysunshine** : But I love him <3

Dean won’t lie. He gets a bit jealous at the mention of  _BeeMySunshine_ ’s friend. Hell, they seem like they might even be in love. But Dean pushes it down.

 

 

 

 

Okay. So Dean’s got a bit of a problem. And maybe that little problem has to do with Cas.

It’s not that he’s jealous. Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself again and again. But he doesn’t like how much Cas is on his phone. He sure as hell doesn’t like the fact that they never watch movies together anymore, because Cas seems to have found a guy that he really likes, and for some reason, Dean’s stomach is always in knots when he thinks about it. 

When Cas asks, “When is the appropriate time to send ‘dick pics’?” one morning, Dean wants to die.  

“Never!” he huffs, a sudden feeling of over-protectiveness coming over him, but Cas doesn’t believe him.

 

 

 

 

He knows that it’s ridiculous. He sure as hell knows that it’s technically none of his business and not at all his right, but he starts pouncing up on Cas unexpectedly, panic always rising within him when he thinks Cas might be in the process of taking those pictures. He won’t admit it, but if he someone accused him of checking out Cas’ package about sixty-seven times a day (hey, only to make sure that the drawstrings on Cas’ pants are still proper…no funny business)—well, he’d deny doing it.

But maybe denial’s not enough. Sam starts coughing a lot when he’s in their presence.

And Sam definitely raises his eyebrows when Dean starts knocking on the bathroom door every time Cas is in there longer than thirty seconds.   

“Why’d take your phone in there?” Dean nags him when he comes out.

Cas glares at him even as Dean’s eyes dart to his drawstrings again.

 

 

 

 

_I notice that your mind has been elsewhere_ , _BeeMySunshine_ texts him one day.

Dean’s at the kitchen table once more, Cas opposite him. He looks sad and Dean’s heart twinges and he sets his phone down.

“Cas?” he says.

Cas nods but keeps chatting with his match.

It’s been ages since Cas and he talked properly.

Dean misses him. 

So he picks up his phone again and,  _i think im in love with someone else_ , Dean sends.

 

 

 

 

Dean doesn’t check his phone. He hears it buzz but he never picks it up.

Cas keeps texting. But less and less.

When Cas angrily tosses his phone onto the couch out of the blue, Dean swallows.

“Need me to kick his ass?”

 

 

 

 

They end up sitting at the edge of Cas’ bed.

“I love him,” Cas says, just as Dean blurts, “I love you.”

Cas stares at him with big, wide eyes.

 

 

 

 

Maybe it would’ve gone all to hell then. Maybe it wouldn’t have worked out, because Cas starts telling him something about loving his dating app match  _more_ , and how  _distant_  Dean and he have grown since Cas found this guy (even though the bastard apparently told Cas that he loved someone else, and then stopped answering Cas’ texts, just at the same moment that Cas sent the dude Dean’s worst nightmare—dick pics).

But then the door to Cas’ wardrobe creaks open.

And fifteen stolen guinea pigs come rushing out.

 

 

 

 

It’s not the way that Dean would’ve wanted to find out. It’s something that they’re going to have to talk about, because those guinea pigs squeal a little too much and Dean’s got allergies, but it doesn’t matter in that moment because Dean’s rushing to grab his phone.

_hey_ , Dean types, heart beating fast.

> **cake-and-pie-and-hi-i’m-bi** : my name’s dean winchester. what’s urs?

Cas’ fingers fumble with his keyboard, but eventually, he hits send.

> **beemysunshine** : …Castiel. I think I’m in love with you.

Two minutes later, Dean’s got Cas pressed up against the mattress and they’re kissing.

They only stop when one of Cas’ guinea pigs climbs up on top of Dean’s head and Dean screams bloody murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/170811815282/hello-i-have-a-prompt-for-the-destiel-drabbles) <3


	6. Mistaken for a Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not going to murder me,” Cas growls, defiant, and pushes the edge of the sword right up against the home intruder's neck just as the man babbles, “Please don’t kill me!”
> 
> Cas blinks.
> 
> “I’m Dean,” the firefighter says, and then Cas realizes what he’s done.
> 
> Suddenly, he's acutely aware of the fact that he’s straddling the freckled man without any clothes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the holidays are very distracting and I completely forgot to update this thing but here's the next story :D

Cas had been warned many times about home intruders. He’d been nagged by his brother, Gabriel, until he’d consented to hiding a remarkably pointy sword under his bed for protection. He’d taken a criminology class, had learnt the ways of serial killers and how best to survive them. But despite it all, he had never imagined that he would ever be put to the test.

Now he knows that he made a very grave error of judgement.

It’s 7:03 a.m. when he hears the door creak open. He’s awake, just barely, but the heavy stomp of footsteps leading straight to his bedroom rouses him like nothing else. 

Cas stumbles out of bed. He squints, glares at the door for a moment because he’s been robbed of his morning coffee, but there are six seconds left before the serial killer enters and that’s only just enough time to dive for the sword under his bed.

There’s only one problem, though.

Cas is naked.

For a moment, he stands there, frozen. He values his life but also his dignity, and he knows that he only has enough time to either pull on his pants or grab the sword—not both. Another two seconds pass. The intruder’s hand meets the doorknob. 

Cas chooses his life.

What happens next is the story that will have Cas dying of mortification at every family gathering.

As soon as the door opens, Cas leaps into the air, swinging his sword wildly in warning swipes. The serial killer, dressed oddly like a firefighter, stumbles back, falls flat on his ass when he sees the naked man wielding his deadly weapon, and Cas jumps on top of him, straddling him while he brings his blade to the man’s throat.

“You’re not going to murder me,” Cas growls, defiant, just as the man babbles, “Please don’t kill me!”

Cas blinks.

“I’m Dean,” the firefighter says, and then Cas realizes what he’s done.

 

 

 

 

The man explains how he’s here to inspect the apartment’s fire extinguishers. Apparently the whole complex got the e-mail, Dean tells him, and launches into a long explanation, which starts off with a lot of stammering because Dean still seems to be in shock about his almost untimely demise, and during which Cas is acutely aware of the fact that he’s still straddling the man without any clothes on.

_Oh_.

And the sword.

Cas…still…has…the…sword.

Cas removes it from Dean’s neck, lays it down on the carpet, and promptly wants to die.

After Dean finishes, he lets out a big sigh, one of relief probably, because Cas doesn’t seem intent on murdering him anymore. He even lifts his hand, gives it to Cas to shake, and Cas is taken aback by the friendly gesture, can’t even get himself to look the freckled man in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Cas blurts. His voice comes out in a squeak. Cas narrows his eyes at that and mortified,  _I am an abomination_ , he thinks. “I thought you were a serial killer.”

Dean coughs a lot and Cas finally manages to look at him, and after a long moment where they stare at each other a bit too long and Cas notices that Dean has a very attractive mouth, Dean forgives him, pats Cas on the shoulder awkwardly, while gruffly reassuring him that it “could’ve happened to anybody, buddy,” and after another coughing fit, Cas scrambles off the man and they finally meet in a vertical position.

“Uh, here, you probably don’t wanna—” Dean mumbles and he shrugs out of his coat, wraps it around Cas to hide his nudity, and Cas nods vigorously, desperate to be decent again, and after that, they awkwardly tour the apartment while Dean assures him that his fire extinguishers are up to par.

Another awkward five minutes later, Dean’s standing in the doorway, is done his inspection and ready to move on to the next block, and Cas realizes with horror that if he undoes the buttons of the coat to hand back to Dean, he’d really just be stripping in a very unsexy fashion.

“Uh, you can keep the coat, Cas,” Dean says hastily, and waves his hand, and Cas prays that he’ll never have to see this man again. “I—I can come ‘round later to collect it?”

Cas curses.

But nods.

And after they agree on six o’ clock, the man gives him another nervous smile and disappears.

 

 

 

 

The rest of the day, Cas spends his afternoon in Sam Winchester’s apartment. Sam Winchester’s a friendly neighbour who’s had him over a few times, who lives with his girlfriend, and at any rate, Cas agrees wholeheartedly when they bump in the hall and he receives an invitation for beer.

Truth is, Cas can’t face looking at his apartment right now.

By the time they get to their second beers, Eileen comes by, tells them about how the whole apartment complex has the hots for an attractive firefighter who’s been carrying out safety inspections. Something about that seems very funny to Sam, and Eileen winks and says,  _Apparently, he went into one apartment with his coat on and came back out_ without _it._

Cas drops his beer.

After that, their conversation moves on to Cas’ dating life. It’s true that Cas hasn’t had much luck lately, and then Eileen mentions that Sam has a brother, someone who sounds very dorky for whom Cas feels affection, all just by hearing about him. Fifteen minutes later, Eileen’s already arranged for Sam’s brother to come over, promising him that there’s a very handsome man in their apartment.

Cas turns red with embarrassment but is pleased when Eileen tells him that Sam’s brother has responded with an enthusiastic  _Yes._   

“Horn dog,” Sam mutters, but promises that his brother’s not a bad guy.

When the initial blind date turns into a full-fledged dinner, Cas insists on helping out, and Eileen hands him a rather large knife to cut vegetables.

Then the doorbell rings.

Sam and Eileen urge him to open it, winking because his blind date’s arrived early, and Cas, flustered, heads to the door, knife still in hand.

That turns out to be a big mistake.

 

 

 

 

It’s  _Dean_.

Dean sees Cas standing on the other end, sees the knife covered in red vegetable juice that looks suspiciously like blood, and when Dean doesn’t immediately see his family, he leaps onto Cas and tackles him to the ground. 

“Why’re you trying to kill me, pal?” Dean demands and Cas prays to God for a swift death because he can’t live with this type of humiliation any longer.

They roll around on the floor, and Sam and Eileen yell, and there’s general chaos where Cas accidentally embeds the knife into his own thigh. At that, the medically-trained firefighter’s eyes widen, and Cas has to live through the agony of Dean immediately pulling off his pants and boxers to treat the wound because he’s afraid Cas has hit his femoral artery. 

“Just missed it,” Dean says, panting, and they stare at each other and wonder how Cas is naked and wielding a knife  _again_  in Dean’s presence.

This time because he doesn’t have his jacket anymore to cover Cas up, Cas watches as Dean pulls off his shirt and drapes it over Cas’ crotch as they wait for the ambulance to arrive.

Cas lets out a shuddery breath.

Dean has  _abs._

 

 

 

 

“I should probably just go with you,” Dean says, and they ride the ambulance together all the way to the hospital. Dean is a nice guy who holds Cas’ hand the whole time, even though Cas can’t bear to look at him (looking at his chiseled chest is a lot easier).

There’s a lot of waiting and they end up spending the whole day at the hospital. When it’s all over, Dean carries Cas in his very big and muscular arms to the car, and then later, to Cas’ apartment. After Cas is deposited in his bed, Dean tells him that he’ll have his brother, Sam, come up in the morning to check on him. Cas nods and they stare at each other awkwardly.

“You should probably—maybe stop playing with knives, dude,” Dean admonishes and he gestures to the sword that’s still lying on the floor from Cas’ intruder attack this morning.

Cas nods, numb, and with one last look at Dean’s beautiful chest, hopes that he’ll never have to see this man again.

But on the way out, Dean pauses and grins.

“Not bad for a first date, huh?” he says and Cas gulps and a year later, they end up married. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/180008243427/this-is-a-commission-fic-for-jemariel-for-her) <3


	7. Stuck in a Closet (With You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Dean _tries_. He really does. He tells himself to _rein it in_. He tells himself, _Conceal, don’t feel_ , even as he rushes forward to grab Cas’ duffel bag and carry it into the motel for him (they’ll all think that he’s just being a good friend, right?). He tells himself, _Be careful, damn it_ , to stop reaching out to touch Cas on the shoulder so much, to ask him if he’s doing okay even if Cas is _fine_ and it’s only been about twenty seconds since he last confirmed that particular fact. But…he’s _hopeless_. Dean knows that about himself. He’s hopeless because he’s got a lot of feelings swirling inside his chest and he’s not sure how he’s going to survive the next twenty-four hours without blabbing _all of them_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hit a roadblock with updates because I realized that all of my other Tumblr drabbles were A) too short or B) codas, which I feel ought to be posted in a different collection to avoid confusion (they're also very angsty and I want to keep the drabbles in this collection more on the humour side of things)
> 
> This one actually is a coda, but only sort of. I wrote it before the episode 13x06 Tombstone aired, so it doesn't follow the plot at all. Instead, pretend that you're reading a case fic where Dean and Cas battle a ghost gunslinger :P

Okay. Dean  _tries_. He  _really_  does. He tells himself to  _rein it in_. He tells himself,  _Conceal, don’t feel_ , even as he rushes forward to grab Cas’ duffel bag and carry it into the motel for him (they’ll all think that he’s just being a good friend, right?). He tells himself,  _Be careful_ ,  _damn it_ , to stop reaching out to touch Cas on the shoulder so much, to ask him if he’s doing okay even if Cas is  _fine_  and it’s only been about twenty seconds since he last confirmed that particular fact. But…he’s  _hopeless_. Dean knows that about himself. He’s hopeless because he’s got a lot of feelings swirling inside his chest and he’s not sure how he’s going to survive the next twenty-four hours without blabbing  _all of them_.

So it’s no surprise that he ushers them all into the western-themed motel with a gargantuan grin splitting his face. It’s no surprise that Sam smiles softly and shakes his head, maybe a little embarrassed at his brother’s antics when Dean greets the receptionist with an overly-enthusiastic,  _Howdy_ (“God, Dean, you’re not five!” Sam scolds), even if the receptionist’s polite and she rallies back Dean’s energetic salutation with one of her own.

And when the rooms are paid for and Sam’s starting to assume that he’ll be sharing with him like they've done for every other case, Dean’s gone so far off the rails that he  _just can’t help himself_.

He yanks a bewildered Cas inside and slams the door shut in Sam’s face.

“I, uh, thought we could use some quality time,” he tells Cas and he can’t stop the way that his face goes red at that.

 

 

 

 

The thing is, the get-up, it’s  _important_. It helps them fit in with the locale, connect with the people better, and it just makes it all around easier to question them if they wear what’s ordinary  _hereabouts_. Or at least that’s what Dean tells himself. Or at least that’s the answer that he gives the members of Team Free Will + Satan’s Spawn when he spots the shop toting  _authentic western wear_  and drags them inside.

“He really likes cowboys,” Jack observes and Dean tries not to let a stupid pleased smile cross his face when he hears Cas’ grumpy reply.

The rest of the time, he eagerly flits from one corner of the store to the other. He ushers Cas around, pushing him gently on the back in the direction of whatever he’s interested in while Jack dubiously backs away when Dean throws him a brief considering look. He fusses over Cas’ clothes, makes him try on twenty-three, twenty-seven, thirty hats. But when Cas picks the ugliest straw hat of the bunch and gives him a goofy smile, Dean falls head over heels all over again and buys it for him right away (in his defense, the dude just returned from the dead and _Status:_   _Alive_ is a damn good look on him).

Sam and Jack loiter in the corner behind a coat rack and hope he doesn’t single them out next for a cowboy makeover (but truth be told, they have nothing to worry about).

 

 

 

 

Alright. So maybe he’s bad at  _hiding_  it, his feelings. Maybe he can’t stop himself from throwing Cas heated looks whenever he sees him. Maybe the damn cowboy get-up was important because Dean feels a certain way about it, and with Cas mixed in with all of his fantasies, maybe that’s something that’s a little harder to swallow and brush off.

Something about his behaviour—so maybe it has Sam  _noticing_. Sam frowns at him when he sees Dean standing so close to Cas, and it’s not just a hand on the shoulder anymore. Sam watches him, watches how Dean’s got an arm slung around Cas as they observe the latest crime scene, and maybe Sam has an epiphany then. Maybe that’s what gets him to say, “How about Jack and I head over to the graveyard? Save some investigation time by splitting up.”

When Dean gives him a nod, he feels like he’s acknowledging something else.

 

 

 

 

Okay, he’s stupidly excited. His heart shouldn’t be racing like this, at the knowledge that he’s gotta ride after the gunslinger, after the entity that’s been terrorizing this small western town, but he  _is_.  

He swings into the saddle like an expert. He’s got his hand outstretched to Cas without a second thought, even as he sees Cas going for another horse.

Cas hesitates. For a moment. But there’s logic in them going at it together and it only takes a split second for Cas to grab his hand and take his seat behind Dean.

Cas’ arms wrap around his waist.

They press together, snug and warm and tight.

When Cas tentatively rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder, Dean fumbles for a moment, brushes his hand against the one that Cas has got on his hip for maybe some reason that he’s perfectly well aware of.

Then he takes the reins.

They aim the rifle together when they take a shot at the gunslinger mid-chase.

 

 

 

 

He’s not sure what makes the situation take this drastic turn.

One moment, they’re winning and the gunslinger’s looking like a goner, but then  _God knows what_  happens and Dean and Cas are making a run for it, sprinting side by side, as fast they can to get away.

They end up at an old saloon. They end up there because of course this town’s got one, abandoned and run-down from 1898, and Dean scrambles into the nearest hiding spot, pulls Cas by the scruff of his neck into a closet that can barely fit them both.

He shuts the door.

It’s dusty and hot and they both pant to catch their breaths.

It takes some difficult manoeuvring. The closet door’s splintered with a gaping hole on one side, so they squeeze up in the opposite corner, toss their hats onto the floor where the gunslinger won’t be able to see them, and Dean’s got his back pressed flat up against Cas’ chest and maybe—maybe just for a damn moment—he forgets that they’re in danger.

Cas is breathing quick and reassuringly against his ear. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and collects himself.

Then they hear the creak of the saloon doors swinging open.

 

 

 

 

It’s kind of fucking terrifying.

The gunslinger’s firing his pistol haphazardly, and Dean doesn’t know how he doesn’t have to stop and reload after every bullet (but he’s an entity and maybe that means magic bullets).

A bullet flies through the hole in the closet, and then Dean’s being manhandled, by Cas, turning them around so that Dean’s shoved up against the wall, shielded from the spray of bullets by Cas’ body.

“Hey!” Dean hisses angrily, and he struggles to turn around again, until they’re chest to chest. “You don’t get to be noble, okay? You’re not dying on me again.”

But, “I’m an angel,” Cas says, just as a bullet comes flying through the wood and lodges itself into Cas’ arm.

It doesn’t seem to matter that he’s an angel.

The bullets are magic and Dean’s heart almost stops when he starts seeing blue grace leak from the wound.

 

 

 

 

It’s the heat of the moment.

It’s the knowledge that they’re both probably going to die if Sam and Jack don’t find them, so Dean takes Cas by the lapels of his coat and kisses him.

They get so desperate that they don’t notice when Sam and Jack  _do_  run in, when they save the day and banish the entity, because all Dean can think about is Cas, the only thing that he can hear is the drumming of his heart pounding in his ears.

They kiss so intensely that they fumble and trip and come crashing right out of the closet.

“Father?” Jack says and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

 

 

 

 

They end up booking a few more nights at the motel.

They end up doing that while Sam nudges Jack hastily towards a bus and tells him that they’re going home without Dean or Cas.

“C’mon,” Sam says with a smile. “Let them enjoy their honeymoon.”

So that’s what Dean and Cas do. That’s what they do right up to the moment where the motel charges them $123,457 for damaged furniture because sex with an angel is loud enough to warrant a noise complaint and wild enough to destroy an entire room.

They flee.

But they’re happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might be slower now that I've run out of longer drabbles haha. I'm going to combine a few of my shorter ones on Tumblr into one coherent story of domestic DeanCas moments so that should be the next update later next week! But I've also been writing a lot of new drabbles that I'll be posting on Tumblr and then cross-posting here very soon, so the next stories that you can expect after the domestic drabble probably are:
> 
> 1) a fic. where Dean keeps accidentally receiving his neighbour Castiel's mail, who is a mysterious and rather attractive individual  
> 2) a fic. where Cas accidentally flirts relentlessly with Dean who immediately has a (figurative) heart attack
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/167428198372/cowboy-boyfriends) <3


	8. Death Threats or Love Letters?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You know,” he says, when he’s back at his neighbour’s apartment to hand back death threat no. 5., “maybe, uh, loosen up the pants there a bit. It doesn’t—it doesn’t look so comfortable.”_
> 
> _Castiel gives him another one of his smoldery looks and tugs at his belt._
> 
> _“Are you offering?” he says._
> 
> The one where Dean keeps getting Cas’ mail and thinks that his neighbour’s trying to murder him, but really, Cas is on a quest to find true love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man so this little story, I worked on and off it for a little over a year :P I felt that the ending wasn't working, but inspiration hit last week so here it is! this isn't the story that I mentioned that I was going to post last time (I'm still trying to make that one work), so this is one that I posted this week on tumblr (I'm so sorry if this is just a reread for some of you guys!)
> 
> also on that note, may I add that I'm overwhelmed with love for everyone who's ever left me a comment or kudos here despite them being rereads? thank you. thank you endlessly for still taking the time to let me know that you're enjoying them nonetheless! I appreciate it so much! <33

Dean’s about ninety-nine percent sure that his neighbour’s a serial killer and one hundred and ten percent sure that he’s an asshole.

His neighbour tries to kill him right with the first delivery.

 

 

 

 

It’s not that Dean doesn’t think that it’s a mistake, when the package arrives with his name on it (Dean Smith) but Castiel’s address. Dean’s not naturally paranoid. But it’s hard not to assume certain things when there’s a silver blade in the box and a handwritten note with a blatant death threat addressed to him:

 

_Hello, Dean_ , it says.

_Your soul burns hot like the blood that rushes through your beating heart._

_My blade could vanquish you, but so, too, could it take my own life_.

_Yours,_

_Castiel_

 

Alright…so Dean tries to ignore it. He heads on over to Castiel’s apartment with only a little bit of trepidation, and he only whimpers for about a quarter of a second when the neighbour in question opens the goddamn door.

“Your, uh, package came to my place by accident,” Dean says, and then his brain short-circuits, because Castiel’s standing there and maybe Dean never got a good look at him before because, shit, this dude’s  _hot._

His neighbour presses his hand to Dean’s shoulder and gives him a look so intense that Dean’s pretty sure that he passes out.

When Dean’s aware again, the door’s shut in his face and the package is thankfully out of his hands.

 

 

 

 

The second delivery isn’t that bad. It’s just a feather in a small jewellery box. Or at least that’s what he thinks, until Dean reads his next death threat, and decides that he’s gotta take matters into his own hands:

 

_Angel feathers are so sharp that they can be used to gouge eyes out._

_I hope someday to blind you, as your beauty does to me_.

 

“That’s it, asshole!” Dean mutters under his breath and he fumbles around for a pen. Time to hatch a plan.

 

 

 

 

Okay, so Dean’s not really good at hatching plans.

At least not when he keeps heading over to Castiel’s place with the intention of returning his threatening packages, only to find himself getting distracted by other…types of  _packages_.

“You know,” he says, when he’s back at his neighbour’s apartment to hand back death threat no. 5., “maybe, uh, loosen up the pants there a bit. It doesn’t—it doesn’t look so comfortable.”

Castiel gives him another one of his smoldery looks and tugs at his belt.

“Are you offering?” he says.

 

 

 

 

Okay, Dean realizes that there’s only one way to avoid getting murdered—he has to get Castiel to fall in love with him.  

It’s no easy task.

Dean starts lingering every time he heads over to the guy’s apartment, trying to get a foot in through the door (while being acutely aware of the fact that the dude’s been sending him death threats for two whole weeks now).

“Did it—did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” Dean mumbles the first time he manages to get a pick-up line out of his mouth. Something about that must intrigue Castiel because he nods slowly.

“Yes, I remember the knife that stabbed me when—”

But on the topic of blades and piercing flesh, Dean reels with horror and hastily makes an excuse to get out of there.

 

 

 

 

The next time that Dean tries to woo his murderous neighbour, he doesn’t use a pick-up line. Instead, he hopes that some intimate touches might do the trick to calm the blood lust within Castiel.

When he hands over death threat no. 18—a  _loaded_  Colt, with a note reminding him that any creature in the universe can be killed with it—Dean tries his best to make some contact. He lets his fingers drag along Castiel’s wrist. He puts his hand on his assassin neighbour’s shoulder, holds him there and looks him in the eyes with what he hopes is a loving expression. Maybe it works a little because Castiel gazes back at him softly, and for the first time, he says, “ _Dean_ ,” in a voice that seems a little desperate, a little wanting.

“I’m here,” Dean says, just as gentle, and he’s confused—suddenly, he’s not sure who he is anymore.

But then Castiel groans and reality comes crashing back.

“Here?” Castiel says and he looks practically tortured. “Purgatory. Hell. It seems that all of these evil places where blood is shed, it is the only place that you and I will be together.”

And upon hearing promises of sending Dean to hell, Dean’s heartbeat thuds in his ears. Dean’s frightened out of his wits. Dean gives a strained smile, nods vigorously as if he’s totally down with his neighbour’s obsession with Satan and death, and then takes one step backwards before he chickens out and runs away.

 

 

 

 

He’s so terrified that he doesn’t go back to Castiel’s apartment for days.

He hides. He calls in sick for work so that he doesn’t have to leave the safety of his home (he’s taking no chances!), and he curls up into bed with ice cream and wine and rewatches  _Legally Blonde_  for days. All the while, Castiel’s aggressive packages don’t stop, although they start getting really weird, enclosed with things that are uncool like pictures of Impalas, and some dude named Sam Winchester. There are even manuals on how to get out of something called a “djinn dream” when you’re really in some major denial.  

The last death threat that he receives is a mixtape, and Dean doesn’t listen to it for fear that it’ll contain satanic chanting or, even worse, a back-mask recording of Led Zeppelin’s  _Stairway to Heaven_ , which Dean had listened to once and…well,  _never_  again. Led Zeppelin was clearly a band for devil worshippers, Dean reasoned, and nobody could possibly ever like them.

But after the mixtape, the death threats stop.

For thirteen days, there are no more letters.

And then, the last one comes.

 

 

 

 

_I’ve tried everything, Dean. When we found that the djinn’s hold was too strong, Sam said that telling you that I love you would work. That he believed that you loved me. So I entered your mind and courted you. I tried every sort of flirtation that I could think of._

_But nothing’s worked. Because what I fear is true._

_Sam was wrong._

_You don’t love me. Not like that. ~~Not in the way that I do~~. You ran from me whenever you could and now I realize that my presence has made you uncomfortable all these years._

_So I’m sorry. I’m sending you one last letter._

_Please remember. Please come home. I promise I’ll leave and you can live the life that you’ve always wanted without me._

_Cas._

 

 

 

Dean jolts awake.

Sam’s there. And Cas. Both by his side.

Cas’ shoulders slump. He doesn’t look at Dean. But he says quietly, “I’ll be gone by morning light.”

 

 

 

 

“You asshole!”

Dean ought to be weak after being drained of blood by the djinn but there’s only energy coursing through him. He slams Cas up against the wall. He presses their foreheads together, bumps their noses, gasps and gasps as if he needs air, but he doesn’t—he closes the gap between their open mouths and kisses him instead.

“I love you,” Dean says every time that they pull apart. “You dumbass, I need you with me at every morning light.”

 

 

 

 

Valentine’s Day rolls around and Cas isn’t any better at flirting. He sends Dean a letter with a ring enclosed inside, and Dean’s not afraid when he reads what appears to be another death threat where Cas promises that the circular band will squeeze Dean’s finger as if in a chokehold to remind him of his eternal bondage to Cas until  _death do us part_ (they’re getting married).

Instead, Dean slips the ring on and gives him a wedding band of his own, kissing every one of Cas’ fingers even as Cas gravely tells him that there’s no escape now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/182193215352/60r3d0m-13k-fluff-humour-the-one-where-dean) <3


	9. Deaged Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witch who’d done this to them had really known what she was talking about—she’d promised that Sam would live out his worst nightmare, and then in a flash of violet smoke, Sam’s nightmare had indeed come to life.
> 
> Dean. Cas.
> 
> Both four years old.
> 
> Sam wanted to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is another tumblr fic. that I published very recently, so you may have already seen it :P I'm still working on figuring out how to compile my shorter drabbles into a coherent story but hopefully, that one will be next and there will be less repetitive content!

Shopping with toddlers Dean and Cas was Sam’s worst nightmare. The witch who’d done this to them had  _really_  known what she was talking about—she’d promised that Sam would live out his worst nightmare, and then in a flash of violet smoke, Sam’s nightmare had indeed come to life.

Dean. Cas. Both four years old.

After a week of trying to get them back to the right age, Sam was quickly losing his mind. And now that their food supplies were running short (kids got hungry  _a lot_ , much to Sam’s dismay), he’d had no choice but to take the two deaged disasters with him to the grocery store.

After his transformation, Dean had become devastatingly timid. It seemed that every step that Sam took, he was dragging along a deadweight attached to his leg. If Sam got snappy, Dean would look up at him with big, watery eyes, letting go of Sam’s pant leg in such a reluctant fashion that it seemed that he was losing his entire world, at which point Sam would apologize and shower him with praise, just to get the building tears out of Dean’s eyes.

Cas, on the other hand…was a  _nightmare_.

“Stop running away!” Sam scolded, dragging the angel back by the scruff of his neck. Cas whined. Cas fidgeted and struggled as if he expected Sam to take him to the gallows. “Why can’t you be like Dean, man? Look how well-behaved he is.”

Unfortunately for Sam at that moment, Dean had also wandered away.

A panic seized Sam’s chest. The thing about Dean was—he was  _clingy_. The only reason for which he would ever leave that Sam could foresee was if Dean had been  _kidnapped_.

Suddenly, Sam missed the weight on his leg a whole lot more.

So grabbing Cas’ hand, Sam rushed through the store in a fright. He headed to the cashier, asked the elderly gentleman to make an announcement in case anyone else saw the tot, but Dean simply could not be found. And as if to make matters worse, Cas used this exact moment of Sam’s intense concern to wrestle his hand away and run off.

“Cas, stupid, come back!”

When ten minutes passed and neither of the boys could be found, the police was called.

After that, it was relatively quick. After Sam handed over a blanket that Dean and Cas shared whenever they went to bed (or well, whenever they fell asleep in the car, which was often), the police’s sniffer dogs found them in a jiffy.

They were napping. Curled up into a crate where milk bottles had rested once.

Luckily for Sam, the cops were too busy giggling to ask him any serious questions about child neglect, and after shaking their hands, Sam was on his way. The grocery store manager was kind enough to allow him to take the whole cart, as she didn’t think it wise to wake up “the sleeping angels.” Sam wanted to protest about the “angel” part, but bit his lip because at least one-half of that phrase was actually true.

Somewhere on the drive back to the bunker, the two of them lifted themselves out of sleep. For some reason, Dean was upset, as if  _Sam_  had abandoned  _him_  in the grocery store rather than it being the other way around. Cas was…well,  _Cas._ Within two seconds of blinking his eyes open, Cas was already out of his seat belt, opening the car window all the way and leaning out, in danger of dangling onto the road.

Sam hit the brakes.

Somewhere in the time that it took Sam to exit the car to make it over to Cas’ side to pull him back into his seat, Cas had instead made his way over to the opposite seat and was busy hugging Dean.

“He’s sad,” Cas said, with a tragic expression on his own face, except the mischievous glint in his eye gave him away. Clearly Cas was playing nurse to avoid getting into trouble, but unfortunately for him, Sam was still going to give him a time-out when they returned home. “I’m helping. We’re boyfriends now.”

Sam sighed. Sam ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Alright, just keep your seat belt on, Cas, please? It’s ten more minutes and we’re home.”

_Ten more minutes before I ground you_ , Sam thought with relish.

And so the rest of the drive went without a hitch.

Cas was still hugging Dean when they got to the bunker. Hell, he was really going for those brownie points. And when Sam ushered them inside, the two toddlers were holding hands in a death grip, determined to be together.

Sam swore. Fucking Cas. He’d  _won_. If he separated them now, Dean would  _cry._

So reluctantly, Sam let the time-out idea go.  

By nightfall, the two kids were exhausted and Sam was on the brink of death himself. He tried to put them in their own beds, but as soon as Sam approached the two, Dean buried his face into Cas’ chest and said tearfully, “I ‘wuv you,” as if he expected a long heart-wrenching separation from his buddy.

Sam rolled his eyes, but that was a bad move because Dean saw it and immediately was convinced that that the whole grocery store debacle today had been a ruse to expel him from the family—even though it’d been  _Dean_  who had run away. So hastily, Sam told them that they could sleep together in Dean’s bedroom tonight, which only resulted in thirty percent less tears, because Dean was emotional and cried, anyway.

Cas called him a “meanie” and Sam was fucking done.

After that, Sam had a great night’s sleep. Sam probably wasn’t cut out to be a parent, because when he heard excited chatter from the toddlers’ room, he didn’t get up to tell them off. Instead, Sam rolled over, put in some ear plugs, and slept in until eleven o’ clock. When he rolled out of bed, he had a breakfast buffet before he steeled himself and finally made his way to Dean’s room with a tray of jam sandwiches (he couldn’t cook either).

But the sight that met his eyes wasn’t what he expected.

Dean and Cas were still there. Still curled up together and inseparable. But they weren’t  _four_  anymore.     

Sam laughed maniacally with relief. Dean shot him a look, a  _What the hell, Sammy_?, but Sam was too overjoyed to care. He pulled the two into a hug, and after that, it was all smooth sailing.

There was just one thing, though.

Dean and Cas kept holding hands. A week went by, and they still slept in the same bed together. It was as if they didn’t remember that they hadn’t been so close before, that they hadn’t grown up together. In fact, it was as if they’d forgotten that they used walk on tiptoes around each other, pining and pining, shuddering at the barest brush of hands. And when Sam asked them what was up, Cas just frowned.

“We’re boyfriends now,” Cas said and Sam never questioned it again.

But he sort of wished that they would stop making out in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome :D And if you'd like to show your support on Tumblr, you can reblog the original version [here](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/post/182301581537/hi-jo-so-i-was-reading-your-tags-in-that-gifset) <3


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